


Beneath the Trees

by liberallesbian37



Series: Project Team Beta's 2013 Writing Challenge [41]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberallesbian37/pseuds/liberallesbian37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn Fabray has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge Number/Title: 41/Tree Hugger  
> Date Posted: 12/26/13  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Rating: T+  
> Genre: Future/AU  
> Content Descriptors: Character death  
> Character Pairing: Quinn/Rachel

                I, Lucy Quinn Fabray, have a secret. It’s not that my real name is Lucy; I just told you that. It’s not that I dye my hair blonde, or that I had a nose job, or even that I used to be fat. It’s not that I had sex before marriage, or that I had a baby, or that I might have had an affair with a professor twice my age. Those things aren’t secrets, not anymore. They were once upon a time, but they all trickled out, whether by me or by someone else. Those secrets became common, or at least readily accessible, knowledge. No, the secret I’m about to tell you is much darker, much scarier, much worse. It’s a secret that must follow me to my grave. I’m afraid that time might come soon if I don’t tell you this secret. It’s inside me, threatening to explode and kill me. But you can’t tell anyone, ever. Understand? Okay, I’ll tell you: I, Lucy Quinn Fabray, killed Rachel Berry.

**

                You have to understand, I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. Rachel was…she was different. She always had been. At one point, it made me hate her. Later, it made me love her. And even later, it made me kill her. Rachel always had a way of knowing things about you. She would say things that went straight to your core. She could get right under your skin, just like a parasite. What do I mean, exactly? Let me tell you a few stories. Then maybe you’ll understand.

**

                I spent most of freshman year drawing pornographic pictures of her on the stalls in the girls’ bathroom. I couldn’t tell you why I did it. I’m not a lesbian, and I certainly wasn’t attracted to her, but there was something thrilling about drawing her in compromising positions. I didn’t know her very well. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever talked to her. But she sat in front of me in algebra and her face offended me, so I drew the pictures.

                I really started to get to know her in sophomore year. That’s when all the shit with glee club started. I got pregnant. Rachel was actually nice to me. When she wasn’t tell my boyfriend that he wasn’t the baby’s father, that is. Otherwise, she was really sweet and caring. But she tried to steal Finn away from me, and that wasn’t okay.

                Junior year was practically all one giant fight between us for who got Finn. Slapping her at prom was the most thrilling thing I’d ever done.  Then she called me pretty and I melted.

                I can’t even talk about senior year.

**

                She always had a thing for stars. I preferred hearts.

**

                “Quinn? Can we talk?” Rachel asked.

                “What is it?”

                “I want us to be friends again, like we were senior year. I miss you. I’m sad and I think you are too. So let’s get coffee. How about two hours?”

                How could I say no? She showed up at my dorm room and ambushed me. I wasn’t expecting it. If I’d known what was going to happen, I never would have gotten coffee with her.

**

                She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her. And she was drunk, so it didn’t count. Coffee turned into dinner turned into drinks. Then she kissed me. I didn’t kiss her, but I kissed her back.

**

                I don’t remember how I got in her bed. All I know is I don’t want to get out.

**

                I suppose you’re wondering how this ended with me killing Rachel. Honestly, I’m not sure how it happened. It happened slowly, I think. After that first kiss, and waking up in her hotel bed, we started to spend more time together. A lot more time together. She loved the woods. She said the trees inspired her. I didn’t understand it, but it made her happy. Then it started going downhill.

**

                “Quinn, are you sure you want another drink?”

                “Quinn! Are you taking sleeping pills again?”

                “Quinn! Are you SEXTING Santana?”

                “Quinn, is this—”

**

                I didn’t mean to slap her. I didn’t mean for her to hit her head. I pulled her into the bedroom and got her into the bed. I tucked her in and went into the kitchen to make her a mug of tea.

                “Quinn?” she called a few minutes later.

                “Hey, Rachel baby. You passed out. I was really worried about you. Here, I made you some tea.” I handed her the mug.

                “Mmm. It smells good. What happened? I can’t remember anything.” I brushed her hair off her forehead.

                “I told you, sweetie. You passed out. Just drink your tea. It’s okay.”

                I sat with her until she passed out.

**

                When I made her tea, I ground up ten sleeping pills and added them to the water. She never had a clue. It was painless for her. She just fell asleep.

**

                I dressed her in her favorite dress. Put on her favorite shoes, the red strappy ones. I brushed her hair back and curled it around her face. Did her makeup. Finally, she looked perfect. Finally, she was ready.

**

                It was amazing how light she was. I knew she was small, and she was light when I put her in bed, but I thought she would be heavier now—now that she was dead. But she wasn’t.

**

                I buried her in the woods, next to the tree that she said inspired her the most. I kissed her forehead and carefully covered her up with the displaced soil. I wouldn’t cry, couldn’t cry. I took out a knife, carved a giant heart on the tree, and stepped back.

**

                I have to believe that she’s happy.

**

                I, Lucy Quinn Fabray, have a secret. It isn’t that sometimes I drink a few shots to many, or that sometimes I need pills to sleep, or even that sometimes I ask Santana to send me naked photos. My secret isn’t that I killed Rachel Berry. I know you thought that was my secret, but it wasn’t. I can’t tell you my secret. My secret is what killed Rachel.


End file.
